


A Small Comfort

by fingalsanteater



Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Andalites, F/M, Flash Fic, Gen, Holding Hands, Introspection, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2015-02-06
Packaged: 2018-03-10 18:33:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3299612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fingalsanteater/pseuds/fingalsanteater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loren offers human comfort to Elfangor as they wait out the two hours until he becomes a nothlit. Set during "The Andalite Chronicles."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Small Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this right after I read "The Andalite Chronicles" for the first time. Any canon discrepancies are due to fact that I've only read up to book 15 thus far.

I watched Elfangor out of the corner of my eye. The bright light from the TV flickered across his new human features, illuminating his smooth, unblemished skin. His face betrayed no emotion. I wasn't sure if that was intentional or if he just had no idea how to show human emotions yet. 

Nervously, I watched the clock. _3:55_. He had been in morph for an hour and fifty-eight minutes. 

Elfangor told me once he found the human need for physical comfort strange. Strange, pleasant, in a way. I shifted closer to him as his last minutes ticked away. The motel room comforter made a strange scritching sound as I slid across the cheap fabric. I wanted to tell Elfangor it would okay, but there was a lump in my throat. As much as I wanted to stay with him, I hated that he was giving up his life. 

"It's not giving up my life," he had explained calmly, through thought-speak, when I had brought it up. "I have no life to give up anymore. I'm a traitor to my people. I disobeyed orders and created an Abomination. I am disgraced." 

When I protested that surely his people would understand, all he said was, "All I am-- what little I am-- I give to you now." 

How could I argue with that? We needed each other. 

We'd been through too much together; we'd seen too many horrible things. And it was all too fresh in my mind. One moment I'm a reasonably carefree thirteen year old, hitting softballs at the local batting cage. The next, I'm eighteen and I've seen enough horror to last a lifetime. 

Tears pricked at my eyes, threatening to slip down my cheeks. I hated to cry then, back just weeks ago when I just a kid. I had thought it made me look weak. I still hated to cry now. 

I scrubbed my hand over my face. Instead of letting the tears fall, I leaned into Elfangor. I put my head on his shoulder. He was stiff with tension at first, but he slowly relaxed. I took one of his human hands in mine and squeezed it softly, hoping he knew humans meant the gesture to be reassuring. He had time enough to learn the intricacies of human touch now. 

_3:59_. Elfangor was trapped in a human morph for the rest of his life. The rest of our lives. I felt his hand squeeze mine back.


End file.
